


Team Player

by TigerLilyNoh



Series: The Uncomfortable Adventures of Sam in Law School [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Drugs, Law Student Sam, Sam-Centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLilyNoh/pseuds/TigerLilyNoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm a Supernatural fic writer, who is currently going to law school in the Bay Area, so I figured I'd write some vignettes of Sam in law school.</p><p>Collection theme: Sam chose law school over hunting, but it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it.</p><p>This ficlet: Sam has trouble working with others, both in school and in his personal life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Player

Sam generally tried to avoid study groups.  He’d been in a few during undergrad with mixed results.  It seemed like at least half of each meeting consisted of complaining about the course rather than reviewing the actual material.  Despite the socialization aspect, discussing the material was usually helpful.

His big problem with studying with other students was that he didn't really want to become socially entangled with anyone.  He wasn't as antisocial as his first year, but he still wasn't quite prepared for the extra responsibility of maintaining a friendship.  It was hard enough accommodating Brady's semiweekly visits.  

Even with his policy decisions to avoid study groups like the plague, Evidence proved to be too much content to go it alone.  About two weeks into the semester he counted through the syllabus and realized that they were going to be tested on 298 different rules.  It was easily the worst time to be taking 13 additional units including two other bar prep courses.

When it came time to find a study group it wasn't that hard.  He wasn't really close to any of the students in his class, but a handful of people knew his name and apparently at least one knew that he was a tutor on an academic scholarship.  All he really had to do was ask the three people sitting closest to him if they knew of any study groups and within a day he had a dozen people he'd never talked to asking to get together.

They ended up working through some fake court transcripts.  The exercise called for them taking on roles in a trial, defense attorney, prosecutor, defendant, & witness.  One testifying witness at a time they'd role play through a line of questioning, looking for statements that were able to be objected to, then they'd discuss the merits of the objection.

On the drug possession case he drew the role of prosecutor, which amused him a little, though he doubted there was a single clean student among them.  

The second transcript role play ended up being a sexual assault civil suit, which made everyone uncomfortable.  Sam sighed with some relief at being the prosecuting attorney again, though he had to dig through a mountain of hearsay rules in order to find the much less covered California rape shield rules.  In the end he'd managed to argue circles around the defense without anybody attempting to call him out on even his farthest reaches.

In the third exercise Sam pulled the straw for playing the role of defendant… in a murder case.  As soon as he began reading through the transcript his stomach started knotting.  The story was a bloody stabbing on the side of the road in the woods.  It may have been inspired by a movie the professor watched on tv, but Sam had seen that sort of thing firsthand and far too many times.  He thought about passing on the transcript, but the study group tended toward lighthearted teasing.  The last thing he wanted was for them to make a big deal out of his problems.

“Alright, we covered direct examination.  Cross-examination time, here's the juicy stuff.”  Commented the overzealous sports law buff Ryan, as he flipped the page.

“Do you know how your car ended up at the scene of the crime?”

“No, my brother said he was going to borrow it.  If anyone killed the guy it was my no good brother.”

Sam tried to push aside the thoughts of Dean killing… well, they weren't humans- that was wrong, there'd been a few witches.  He wasn't sure if the others not being human really made that much of a difference.

“Hearsay & speculation.”  Thy pointed out the objections without looking up from her doodle of the murder.

“Bad character of the brother?”  Ryan suggested.

“He isn't on trial or a witness.”  Sam sighed while wondering where Dean was at that moment, hopefully not in a jail cell.  He'd probably have gotten a call if that was the case, from Bobby or Dean's defense attorney- maybe even their dad.

“I’m sorry, but I'm still caught up on the earlier testimony.”  Amir interrupted.  “It conflicts with the neighbor’s testimony.  They said your pants were white, but then in direct examination you were talking about tearing your dress.”

“Are you trying to catch him in a lie?  Because we don't have any physical evidence.”  Martha chewed her lip as she skimmed the handout.  “I don't think we're supposed to talk about that.”

“Okay, well even if we aren't touching the conflict, then it still shouldn't be let in, it's irrelevant to the case.”  Amir shrugged and crossed his arms.

“It's relevant.”  Sam interjected, still somewhat preoccupied with thoughts of long nights disposing of bodies.

“I don't see it.”

“An average adult man weighs 200lbs.  I'm supposed to be a woman in her early twenties.  She couldn't move the body in one piece by herself even if she wasn't hurt.  She would've had to dismember the body to move it, probably taking off each limb.  I don't even want to think about how to move the 80lb torso.  You could split it, but if you don't know what you're doing the intestines would fall out and that's dozens of feet of- I'm just saying that she couldn't have gotten the body out of there without a huge mess.”  Sam pointed to the neighbor's testimony transcript.  “The statements aren't conflicting, they just cover before & after the homicide.  She changed her clothes after dumping the body, but before she caught her dress on the car door.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam.  How many warrants are out for you and how big is the reward?”  Ryan asked, shaking Sam from his distracted daze.

“Not enough to eat through your student loans.”  Thy joked.

“I like crimes shows.”  Sam lied.

“Are you gonna get into criminal law?”  

“No, I don't really have the stomach to deal with that kind of stuff up close & personal.”  Sam felt clammy and his hand was shaking under the table.  “I like knowing it's all fake.”

“We’ve got 1,000 pages here to tell you it isn't all fake.”  Ryan said while patting his textbook.

“Listen, I've got a tutoring session I've got to go get ready for.”  Sam muttered while shoveling his notes & books into his backpack.  “I'll email you guys with my availability once I schedule out my tutoring for the next two weeks.”

“Okay, don't forget we have a those peer review questions due on Thursday.”  Martha warned him as he turned to leave.  He offered a distracted wave over his shoulder as he heard the study group collapse in his absence.

“Well, I’m headed to the meditation room for a nap.”

* * *

After the studying session, Sam decided to take a long hot shower to calm him down.  He was barely back to his room when there was a knock at the door.  He threw on some pants & a shirt then opened it.  It was the witch from the concert he'd gone to a month earlier.  He stared at her in a minor panic.  

Fucking her had been a mistake.  She'd left pretty quickly the morning after and he hadn't heard from her since, so he had just assumed that she was going to be cool about everything.  His heart felt tight and he said a quick prayer that she wasn't about to tell him she was pregnant.

“What do you want?”  Sam managed.

"I need some advice about a possible lawsuit."  She smiled sheepishly and batted her purple eyelash extensions at him.

"First of all, Tracy, I'm not a lawyer-"

"It's Stacy and I know."  Sam rolled his eyes.  It would've been a million times easier if she'd just made an innocent mistake.

"No, I mean I can't give out legal advice."

"We can do the wink wink nudge nudge."  Sam leaned forward to make sure no one was in earshot down the hall.  His next door neighbor was drunkenly making out with a woman while trying to get his door unlocked.  Sam sighed, hoping that that meant his neighbor was too drunk to keep him up all night with obnoxiously loud sex.

"Why’d you even come to me?"  He whispered, hoping that she would take the hint to be more discreet.  For her part, she nodded in understanding and lowered her voice.

"Because you're not going to raise an eyebrow when things get weird.”  She winked at him.  “You're part of the flip side.  You're basically family."

"No.”  Sam put his hand on her shoulder, getting ready to turn her away.  “I don't-"

"I'll suck your dick."  She offered.

"I don't know how your family asks each other for favors-"  He started, but she pouted and looked at him in desperation.

"At least let me in.  I brought dumplings from Kingdom of Dumpling- I had to go all the way to Outer Sunset to get it.  Just eat my food and hear me out."

Stacy flipped through the pages of Sam's book of evidentiary rules while he sat down to eat.  For a minute he felt ashamed of how easy he was to buy with food, but after his first bite he realized how well she'd actually paid.  He was happy to see that she hadn't taken her coat off yet, though she was making herself at home with his books.

"Privileges & confidentiality?  Oh man, you could be our Tom Hagen."  She said with a broad grin.

"Who's Tom Hagen?"  Her mouth hung open in shock at his question.

"Next time I'll bring The Godfather."

"Next time?”  Sam put the chopsticks down, then stood up in alarm.  “We're not dating or whatever this is.  I'm busy and I've got a ton of problems, I can't be caught up in yours."

His message was somewhat undermined by the sound of moaning coming from the adjacent room.  He walked over to the shared wall and knocked on it a few times with no effect.

"Dude, I'm not trying to marry you.  You just seem like an okay guy and I need some help.  If you want to keep it business, whatever- I can deal."

"Listen, Stacy- nothing against you, but I don't want this to be personal, I don't want this to be business.  I don't want this.  I've worked really hard to get out of the life.  I don't want to get dragged back in."  Sam rubbed his temples, banged on the wall again, then yelled.  “Are you fucking serious?  It's not even nine!”

"Why would you want out of the flip side?"  Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of unpleasant scenarios.  "Coven drama?"

"I don't- I'm not a witch."  He could feel himself blushing and didn't know why he was so embarrassed.  Really he should be concerned.  She could use magic and his closest weapon was a knife in his nightstand.  Despite the risks, he raised his hands up in forfeit.  "My family are hunters."

"Hunters..."  She eyed the door, possibly debating running or expecting an ambush.  "You're a hunter-"

"I'm not, I left."  Sam explained.  "I got out five years ago.  In that time I think I've said like a handful of sentences to my brother- I haven't talked to my dad at all."

She stared at him with a sickening fear.  He hated that look- it was one of the reasons he'd wanted out.  It was that crushing moment when the person across from you expected you to kill them.  She wasn't even taking on a defensive posture- she'd probably never met a hunter before.

"I'm not gonna hurt you... I don't want to hurt anyone."  He could feel a headache coming on- thank God his neighbor had either suddenly become considerate or couldn't last to save his life.  “I just want a quiet, simple life.”

“Why'd you tell me you're a witch?”  Her voice was a little hurt, but not nearly as scared.

“Technically speaking, I didn't.”  Sam shrugged.  “You just assumed and I didn't correct you.”

“You really are training to be a lawyer.”  She observed.  "I don't understand.  If you're not a witch how come you've got that stuff?"

"Stuff?"  He thought he'd thrown out all his occult trinkets when he moved in with Brady the first time.

"The aura."  She gestured at the area around him.  When Sam didn't respond her eyes widened.  "You know you've got an aura, right?"

"What?”  He asked in alarm.  “What the fuck does that mean?"

"I don't know.”  She raised her hands defensively and stepped away from him.  “I don't recognize it.  I figured it was just like part of a demon soul pact or something.  That's why I went for it at the concert, I thought- I mean you look like a witch."  

“Look like- what the fuck do witches look like?”  The thought worried him.  If it was true it had dangerous implications.

“Lots of witches have auras from pacts & stuff, you have to be pretty deep in arcana or not human to see it, but it's there.”

“I never made a pact.”  He grabbed a bottle of anti-anxiety meds, sat down at his flimsy table, took more than he probably should've, then immediately started looking through his loose papers for an already rolled joint.

“I don't know that it's a pact, that’s just what it reminds me of.”  He took three puffs before he looked back up at her.

“You can see it right now?”  

When she nodded, he slumped forward onto the card table, which buckled slightly under his weight.  Dipping sauce and a hundred hours of notes fell to the floor in no particular order.  He barely even moved.  All he could bring himself to do was bury his face in his hands.

“I think you need some help.”  Stacy suggested.

“Five hours a week of group & one-on-one, plus pounds of pills & weed.”  Sam groaned.  “I’ve got a lot of help.”

“I was thinking of some flip side help.”


End file.
